Big Brother England and Little America
by Geirdriful
Summary: We all know England and America. Exactly what the title suggests, Big Brother England and Little America, with a sprinkling of France, of course. Purely HUMOUR and no yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**Big Brother England and Little America**

* * *

**Bed Wetter**

* * *

"You wet your bed again," said England.  
"Yeah," said America apologetically, "Sorry, England."  
"We'll have to find a way to fix this problem of yours, you know."  
"Uh."

-  
"This isn't going to work, is it," muttered England, surveying his handiwork.  
America looked back at his mattress.  
"I don't think so."  
"Hm," said England, and he began removing the old newspapers from the bed. "It's a pity. Then you would've been able to read the news in bed."

-  
"Wow, America!" exclaimed England, a wide grin on his face, "You didn't wet your bed last night!"  
"I didn't, did I?" said America, smiling enthusiastically.  
"Good for you!" his brother said, patting him on the head, "As a reward, I'll take you to any restaurant you want tonight for dinner!"  
"Wow, really? Can we go to that new French place, then?"  
England hesitated, "Wait... you want to go to a _French_ place?" He asked tentatively.  
"_Pleease?"_  
"Ah... fine," he gave in.

-  
"Hm, this place isn't actually too bad, for a French place," muttered England.  
"Yeah!" America agreed.  
The waiter appeared beside their table, "Good evening, monsieurs, what will you be having tonight?"  
England froze.  
"_YOU?!_"  
"Ohonhonhonhon! If it isn't Eyebrows!" France exclaimed, a rather disturbing smile forming on his lips.  
About two seconds later England was dragging his brother out of the restaurant, scowling.  
America complained, "Aw, man! Come on! Just because you have an eternal grudge against the gay-looking waiter doesn't mean -"  
"Banish those dark thoughts from your mind, America. Those are the seeds of corruption."

* * *

**France**

* * *

France watched his greatest rival and America having a picnic from behind a rock.  
_Ugh... Those two are eating one of taste-dead Britain's _something_s again, _he thought distastefully, _It's purple-green this time..._  
Finally he couldn't stand it. He suddenly got to his feet and shouted:  
"WHY AREN'T YOU TWO DEAD YET? ! THAT THING HAS PINK AND YELLOW DOTS! !"

* * *

England felt a tentative tap on his shoulder and turned to see America standing behind him, holding an open book against his chest."Yes?" he said.  
"Britain, I think you might be sick."  
He was mystified. "What?"  
"I think you might be ill," America repeated.  
"But I feel fine."  
The boy held up the open book and read, "Francophobia: a condition in which the subject has a severe hatred or fear of France or the French."

* * *

**Toy Soldiers**

* * *

The two sat in the library, where America played with his toy soldiers, making them fight, and England was reading... or at least trying to.  
"BOOM! BLAM! WHBLAM!" yelled America, "_BOOM!_"  
England was finally unable to take it. He stood up and, sticking out his index and middle fingers, shouted, "POW!"  
"WHBOOM!" shouted America, "PLHHHH - _BOOM_! BAM!" He suddenly threw half the soldiers into the air in a mock explosion.  
He turned to look at England and said, "You annihilated the Brits."

America sat in the library, this time alone.  
"The two sides have been fighting for decades! Finally, they meet in one final battle! Who will prevail in this epic struggle? We have yet to see as -" the boy turned as England's footsteps sounded in the hallway. He turned back to his toys and continued:  
"Suddenly, out of the blue, a terrifying, ugly English giant appears on the battlefield! Filled with horror, the soldiers from both sides flee from the disgusting sight as the giant roars -"  
"AMERICA!"

* * *

[1740]

"Well, America," called England from the gate, "I'm off to kick France's sorry ass again. Be good at home, alright?"  
America appeared in the doorway, "Okay. Bye!" He waved.  
England waved back and began to walk away. America was about to go back inside before a thought struck him, and he turned back to shout, "Hey Britain! Give the gay-looking guy a kick in the butt for me, too!"

[1748]

"Well..." began France, seething, "Would you like to see the bruise on my posterior that your words caused, fool?"  
America stood there, terrified, "Uh... Uh... Um..." Suddenly he began crying and wailed, "HELLP! ENGLAND HELP! THE SCARY GAY GUY'S ACTING PERVY AGAIN! !"  
England appeared from behind the bush brandishing a whip.

* * *

**Ah... America and England.**  
**Review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Recommended reading materials:** "If My Sister Were Here" by Anna Whitlinger (Hetalia fanfiction)  
**And check out **_**my**_** others, too!**

* * *

**[Going to School - or at least trying to]**

* * *

The teacher bent down to look at America.  
"So, kid, what's your name?"  
"Oh," he said, "America!"  
"Wait... what? Excuse me?"  
"America! My name's America!" he told the teacher, smiling, "That is, I'm guessing that you said 'Excuse me' because you didn't hear me right, and not because you farted," then, after a moment, "Sir."  
"Alright... then," the teacher straightened, "Where's your guardian?"  
America's face went blank, "What?"  
"Your guardian, the person who takes care of you."  
"Ooh," He turned and pointed outside, "He's over there!"  
The teacher turned to look.  
"YOU DAMN GIT! QUIT SUPPORTING THAT ASS PHILIP! _CHARLES_! _CHARLES!_"  
"GYAHH! NON! I LIKE PHILIP! LEGGO OF MY THROAT! OWW!"  
"YOU AND BAVARIA ARE IDIOTS! EVEN THAT RUNT HOLY ROME HAS SOME SENSE! _CHARLES!_"  
"PHIIILIIIP! AND TELL THAT GUY PORTUGAL TO GO TO HEEEEEEEEELL! _KHHK_! CAN'T. BREATHE!"

* * *

"So, how'd your first day at school go?" asked England.  
"Brilliant!" chirped America, "I told them all about how my big brother fights with France every day and how you hallucinate and how you can't cook and they all thought it was really funny! You shoulda seen them laughing!"  
England paled. "Well, America," he said, suddenly serious, "that's interesting. Say, I think tomorrow's show and tell, why don't you bring this?" He pulled out a can of something from a drawer in his desk. "Just open the lid when it's your turn."  
"Oh, okay," the boy said, taking the item, "What's it say here... 'Amnesia Gas?'" He looked up, "What's that?"  
"Something... cool."

* * *

"America," England said, "why are you in detention again?"  
"I didn't do anything wrong!" insisted America, "I just wrote the essay like everyone else did and then when the teacher saw it she just went bonkers!"  
England sighed, "Let me see the essay."  
America handed it to him.  
"'Student: America... Teacher: Ms. Shelly... Title: 'The Incredible Incompetence of a Commonly-known Species: _Englishus Teacherus_.'" England groaned, "Well of _course_ she'd explode! You just –"  
"HAHAHA, ENGLAND!" came a horribly familiar French-accented voice from the window, "DIDN'T YOU WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THAT BACK IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY?"  
"SHUT UP FROG!" exploded England, "DIDN'T I STUFF YOUR HEAD IN THE TOILET BACK AT PRUSSIA'S HOUSE AFTER THE TREATY OF HUBERTUSBURG? !"  
"Spain helped me out!"  
America began to look slightly terrified, "England... you're getting that look again... that, 'Oh, it was _, now, was it? Maybe I'll visit him with a _FRIENDLY_ _little _NAVY' look."

* * *

**Canada**

* * *

England lifted America onto the wagon.  
America asked, "Where are we going?"  
"We're going to visit your brother Canada," England told him.  
"Oh. Who's Canada?"  
"He lives just north of you."  
"Oh."  
About half an hour passed as they rode in the wagon. Then America suddenly spoke up again.  
"England, I'm hungry."  
"There'll be food when we get to Canada."  
"Where's Canada?"  
"Just north of you."  
"Oh."  
Another hour passed. America began squirming.  
"England, I need to go."  
"You can go when we get to Canada."  
"Wh —"  
"Just north of you."

* * *

**Reference: Philip & Charles: War of the Spanish Succession**

* * *

**Embarrrassingly short, I know.**

**Hetalia World Series episode 48:**

**Britain: "If this war goes on for another year I wonder what sort of stupid things we'll be doing next Christmas."**  
**Germany: "Uh. Next Christmas? I don't really know."**  
**Me: You'll be intentionally missing each other when you shoot.**

**Honestly, after that Christmas Truce of 1914 (they did play football, and I think there even was this one German soldier who gave a letter to a Scottish guy to give to the former's girlfriend who lived in Scotland*), war-loving leaders & co. basically exploded and banned anything of the sort later. Everyone got around that, however, by doing the aforementioned.**

*** And there were officers trading buttons. Buttons. **  
_**Buttons**_**... BUTTONS EVERYWHERE! ! TARDIS TARDIS TARDIS TARDIS TARDIS**  
**[Geirdriful has been deemed unfit for writing more]**


	3. Chapter 3

**Apologies for overdue update.**

* * *

**Of Words Best Left Unsaid.**

* * *

"Okay!" said little America as he climbed onto the teacher's stage during what was supposed to be English. "Since that frog-face Ms. Shelly isn't here yet, I, as the class president will take over class until she gets here! Or until she breaks through the barricade on the door. Either one. Anyway, I think that we should discuss the cursing problem we have in this class. I think we should make a list of words we consider bad words!"  
With that he turned around and neatly wrote a word on the blackboard.  
"DO YOU THINK F-CK IS A BAD WORD?" he yelled.  
There was a chorus of "yeses" with some "nos" here and there, mostly from children who looked as if they would grow up to be either idiots or con men.  
"Okay! It's a bad word then!" he said. "Next!" America wrote another word on the board in large, clear letters. "DO YOU THINK SH-T IS A BAD WORD?"  
"YES!"  
"No."  
"Yes again, then. Next," Another word: right below the first two. "DO YOU THINK B-TCH IS A BAD WORD?"  
"YES!"  
"No."  
"Doesn't that mean dog?" someone inquired.  
"Female dog, STUPID!"  
"YOU SAID STUPID!"  
"Okay!" interrupted America, "DO YOU THINK STUPID —"  
"YES!"  
"Right. How about... ASSH-LE!"  
"Yes."  
"What does that even mean?" asked someone else.  
"I don't know. It just sounds bad," replied another student.  
"Oh. Okay. Yes!"  
America felt rather proud of himself for remembering that word from one of England's Francophobe rants. "Yes it is then." He added the fifth word to the list.  
"Alright, how about —"  
Smash! Suddenly, the bookcase that had been blocking the door went flying across the room, taking along with it the door itself. It landed with a sickening crash on the other side. Everyone gaped in silence.  
The world hung in limbo for a blissful three seconds.  
Then, through the carnage, the devil incarnate herself, the frog-face Ms. Shelly, stepped into the room, glaring with all the rage of Hell at America, who had the misfortune to be in the middle of writing another word on the blackboard, among the other five offenses.  
"Shel —" was as far as he got.

* * *

_Report Card_  
_Name: Alfred F. Jones "America."_  
_Guardian: Arthur Kirkland "England"_  
_Instructor: Ms. Shelly_

_Subject: Grade and comments_  
_English: Unsatisfactory. He was caught teaching the class curse words._  
_Math: Unsatisfactory. He cannot do sums without the aid of food items in particular to help him count. God knows why it's food._  
_Science: Satisfactory. So he's not an idiot after all._  
_Art: Average. If food art counts._

That was as far as England got reading the report.  
"America, did you put a tack in Ms. Shelly's seat?" he asked.  
"...Maybe," America said rather sheepishly.  
England paused."...Did you put more than one tack on Ms. Shelly's seat?"  
"...Perhaps."  
"Did you accidentally staple Ms. Shelly's face?"  
America was too surprised at the question to come up with a clever lie. "... I think it was an accident...?"  
England sighed. "I don't think you should —"  
"HEY ANGLETERRE!" called an annoying French-accented voice from the window. "DIDN'T YOU USED TO DO THINGS LIKE THAT TO ME WHEN WE WERE —" France broke off in a scream as a stapler went flying out the window headed towards his "gorgeous" face.  
England turned irritably back to America. "Next time, don't use a stapler. Musket balls generally take them out for good."  
America was shocked into silence at this sudden change of attitude. "Uh —"  
"YOU BLACK SHEEP! WHY IS IT FOLLOWING ME! ? MAGIC IS CHEATING!" France screamed, sticking his in the window frame while ducking the enchanted stapler. "THAT IS DEFINITELY CHEATING! YOU STUPID —"  
Pow! "AAAYAAARRRGH! YOU SHOT ME IN THE FACE! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH! YOU ACTUALLY — YAAAAGH! STAPLER —!"  
"Best if you didn't look," said England to a gaping America.

* * *

**The Gay-Looking Guy**

* * *

"Bonjour, little America!" greeted France when he saw the former on the street while he was out stalking someone, (presumably England as usual). "What has that black sheep been corrupting your little mind with lately?" he asked.  
"Well," said America. "Technically I'm not supposed to talk to you... but if I do end up having to I'm supposed to mutilate your face —"  
"What?"  
"— but I don't have anything really good for that right now, so do you think this pencil will work? Huh?"  
France was gone.

* * *

**Wow. My violent soul.**  
**...Yes, Ms. Shelly is based off of my Chinese teacher.**  
**I tried to kill her once, with a chair that was broken.**  
**It was, sadly, quite unsuccessful**.


End file.
